


Nine Days Late

by childofdrought



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, What if?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childofdrought/pseuds/childofdrought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corvo Attano is a very useful man, if you just have the right leverage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Days Late

**Author's Note:**

> (belatedly cross posted from tumblr)
> 
> I don’t even know what happened here. This was supposed to be a little self-indulgent bit on the idea of what if Corvo hadn’t been early that was partly inspired by the Letter To Daud and then it uh… kind of ran away from. It also probably hasn’t been reviewed as much as it should so please point out any blatant mistakes you see.

They were late.

Some damn fool had dropped a whale oil tank and had ended up blowing up the whole stock for the dock they had been refueling at before heading home, their business done. Even now, days later, thinking about it made Corvo’s jaw clench; not just for the waste of life and resources the incident caused but because it completely ruined the effort he’d put into getting the Morley representatives to not only wrap up proceedings in a timely fashion but _early_. A feat surely for the history books considering when it came to Gristol they loved nothing more than to make things as tedious as possible under the guise of unfortunate delays.

He’d half suspect they’d planned the whole incident if it wasn’t for the fact the explosion had taken out the supplies for their own ships as well and whilst they hated Gristol they didn’t hate them enough to spite themselves. Getting his ship first priority for the next shipment of oil in though had been hard enough to make him want to curse the whole damn isle into the Void.

Leaning against the railing of the ship Corvo heaved a sigh. He’d been going to surprise the Empresses by being back at her side two days early and look at him now, well over a week late. He wasn’t looking forward to the earful she and Emily would be giving them for worrying them with this delay, despite the fact his involvement with this trip at all had been at her insistence.

Memory of that argument caused a half smile to tug at his lips as his eyes stared down at the lapping waters below.

_Corvo paced the length of Jessamine’s chamber whilst the lady in question stood with arms crossed and eyebrow raised at the spectacle he was making._

_“Y-You cannot honestly expect me to leave for this long! My place is by your side! That is my job, my_ life _! Surely there is someone else you can trust to deliver your words! I am no diplomat-“_

_“There is not, I have already said this Corvo - do not make me repeat myself. No one else can I trust will make_ sure _our voice is heard by the other isle.”_

_“But… but…” Corvo let out a frustrated sound, tugging at his hair. “I must be here to protect you my lady! Even if there is not someone else who can be trusted to deliver this as much as me there is defiantly not someone who can be trusted to take_ my _place in such short notice!”_

_His pacing was halted as Jessamine stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder with a soft placating smile. “I know you don’t trust the city guards to do as good a job as you,” here she had to hold up a hand to his lips lest he start on_ that _rant, “but by doing this you are doing your job Corvo. Every day the riots get worse, the people more desperate. I sometimes fear what they may turn to for help in this time. When Dunwall is well again I will be safer. So please, no more arguments on this.”_

_Corvo sighed in defeat; he had known the whole time that there would be no winning this argument. Jessamine was an Empresses, her will was no small thing._

_Knowing she had won she stepped away, turning to face the Tyvia painting that hung upon her wall. He waited, knowing that silences like these usually meant she had more to add._

_“….Trust is not the only reason I am asking you to go Corvo. Spymaster Burrows was the one to originally put forward the idea to me you know?”_

_Here he grimaced, he had no love for that man and that he was behind this idea did not help._

_“And well… He is right in one thing at least, the isle have no love for Gristol.”_

_Corvo made a sound as if to protest, causing Jessamine to turn silencing eyes on him._

_“I know, you are Serkonan, that is the point. Dunwall is no longer just the home to the people of Gristol and we hope that by sending you the other isle will remember this and give us aid we so desperately need.”_

_Her smile all of a sudden turned mischievous as she leaned towards Corvo, “So it was either you or Sokolov and he has even less diplomatic skills than you Corvo!”_

Corvo snorted at the memory, having now gone through two months of dealing with the other isles he could safely say the grumpy genius would have snapped at them all as idiots within the week. Corvo had barley refrained from doing the same himself.

The sound of boots clattering down the steps of the ship pulled Corvo away from his post, turning the greet Captain Curnow.

“Lord Corvo! Ready to depart? We should be close enough to launch the riverboat in just a few minutes, the tower is just in sight.”

Corvo nodded, reflexively feeling the inner pocket of his coat for the precious letter it held within, before stepping away from the side of the ship so that the men could get to work readying the riverboat he had been waiting next to.

“Going to be visiting your niece straight away Captain?” Corvo asked, a subtle tease in his voice. Corvo had not been the only man on this voyage frustrated by the delay, Captain Curnow in particular had been willing to wax poetically about seeing his only living relative once he got back at anyone who stood still long enough. Corvo had gotten very good at not standing still for too long after being cornered just once.

The man in question apparently took Corvo’s tease as an invitation as he got _that look_ in his eyes, causing Corvo to internally groan, when he was halted by the appearance of a disturbed looking sailor who had come practically tripping down the steps.

“Sirs! There’s no flags flying!”

Both men immediately paled at the implications.

Feeling a sense of panic try to begin to claw it’d way up his throat Corvo whirled towards the men that had been readying the riverboat. “Get that boat launched on the double! Captain Curnow and I must leave at once.”

Speeding up in compliance the next few minutes where spent in a tense silence as Corvo, the Captain and pilot boarded the riverboat and the men lowered into the waters below. Even as they slowly made their way over and into the water-lock, from which as the man had said no flags or banners hung, Corvo could not find it in himself to speak, instead merely straining his eyes towards where the tower would appear as water rushed in.

Although some distant part of Corvo’s mind registered that they were rising faster than was normal, probably finally having installed those new seals Sokolov had been muttering about before he left, the main part of him could not help but strain and wish it would rise **faster**. He had know if the flags meant what he thought, he prayed that he was mistaken that it was something as innocuous as a bad storm and too little man power and time to raise new ones but _he feared_.

(Highly unlikely though, his eyes and mind had already catalogued a lack of other damage that such a storm would cause; no tattered scraps left or frayed ropes but the mere idea of that possibility needed to be entertained.)

The clang of the ramp docking with the riverboat was near deafening as they finished their ascent, the workers and guardsmen who would usually be chatting away and happily catching up anyone returning on the tower gossip remained ominously silent.

Corvo took a shaky breath as his eyes met those of the Royal Spymaster standing at rest halfway across the bridge. Slowly Corvo made his way towards him, feeling as if each step was almost too great a trial to bear.

“Spymaster Burrowers.” The man twitched, as did some of the guards as if wishing to correct Corvo in his greeting causing his brows to crinkle in slight confusion. He wanted to ask what, what was wrong with his greeting, what was wrong with the flags, just - _what was wrong_. He held himself back, now was not the time to get _emotional._ (Though as the Lord Protector was there ever really a time?)

“Lord Corvo. Welcome back, what news do you bring from the isles? Will they be offering their help in our time of crisis?” there was a sneer in his last question, the Spymaster like many was not hopeful in the chances of his errand working but it was still necessary to explore every option.

Corvo swallowed, now was a chance to choose – tell him what he wanted to know and find out what he already suspected, feared, from the maids at his own time in the night or – “The news I bring is for the Empresses ears first Spymaster.”

“The Empresses is dead.”

With those four words all of the air seemed to rush out of Corvo’s lungs and he could not but help to clench his eyes closed in childish attempt to ward off the knowledge.

Jessamine.

Jessamine was-

_A young girl with ash colored hair who looked much older that day than she had the one before turned to him, holding a book on Gristol customs out as she pointed at the page. “It says here that they only take the flags off the tower when they are changing between the one of the previous sovereign and that of the next.”_

_His eyes flickered to the bare poles visible outside her room, “Jessamine I’m so-“_

_“I don’t want to put my own flag up Corvo. Why can’t I change the rule and keep Daddy’s flying?”_

_His voice was careful, taking in the shine in her eyes that made him want to bundle her up and never let the world near her again but she was Empresses now and even if he was now also Lord Protector he had to acknowledge there where some things he could not protect her from – no matter how much it hurt him so. “Jessamine, I’m sorry his-“_

dead.

“How.” The voice that croaked that single word seemed so unfamiliar in its anguish to him.

“The exact circumstances are still being investigated. Someone managed to lure off most of her guards whilst she was out at the Pavilion and then proceeded to kill the rest and stab her. She bled out before anyone managed to find her.”

Oh Void. He was going to be sick-

This was no accident.

She had –

_He had failed._

He should have saved her.

He shouldn’t have left.

He had been _away._

He couldn’t save her if he was not here. He should have been here, protecting her as he was _supposed to_. The argument, which had brought a smile to his face just before now forced his throat to close tighter. He should have fought harder to stay, he had said it had he not this job was _his life_ and not doing it, not being here it had-

It had-

Had-

He was supposed to die before her.

She wasn’t-

She wasn’t supposed to go first.

_A warm hand smoothed his hair off a sweat slicked forehead prompting him to struggle to open heavy eyelids, causing him to quietly groan when all he accomplished was blinding himself with the light streaming through his chambers windows._

_“Shhh Corvo, don’t try and wake up.” Her voice was as sweet to hear as ever and he felt her carefully move, trying to and in the end failing to sit down on his bed without aggravating his wound. “You’ve done more than enough already, just rest and try not to die on us now alright?”_

_He huffed in his head wondering how she expected him to rest with her worry so obvious in her voice and words. Digging deep to find the energy he needed he slowly raised his arm, her hand coming out to catch his as he’d hope before she gently settled both their hands on her rounded belly – a quite reassurance she knew Corvo would need to know she was fine when he couldn’t open his eyes. “I’m… fine… s’just… a scratch.” His labored breath and slow slurred speech would like to disagree with him on that point but despite it he could feel Jessamine smile._

_“Void. You idiot, just don’t scaring me like that again? No more jumping in front of assassin blades alright? You’re not allowed to die before me, that’s an order.”_

_His own lips attempted a pitiful twitching smile, “No… can… do… Empress. S’in… the job… description.”_

_“Well I’m changing it then.”_

Corvo heard the Spymaster take a step forward, forcing him to open his eyes and finally end the long silence that had fallen between them at his words lest the man actually attempt to _comfort_ him. That was both the last thing he wanted and from the last person he’d want it from.

So instead he drew a breath and without tried to draw around him the professionalism demanded of him by his job, “What of Emily?” he wanted to frown at how badly his voice still sounded.

“The young Lady was with her mother at the time of the attack. No trace of her had been found, we are working under the assumption at the moment that she was kidnapped.”

The cloak of professionalism he had been attempting to draw around himself fell apart so quickly Corvo was surprised it was not audible as he found himself stumbling to the side to support himself against the bannister lest he fall to the ground from the sudden weakness in his limbs.

Eventually he found strength again in his limbs, eventually he found _anger_. “What,” he paused clearing his throat of the weakness that had been clogging it for now with his Empress dead and Emily gone was _not the time_ , “What can I do.”

If had not been so busy fighting himself, his emotions and reactions, he may have been looking at the Spymaster and seen, been warned by, the positively _manipulative_ look that crossed his look.

“Lord Corvo, I am glad you ask. The city is in great need in this turmoil and despite your job being defunct for the time being you will be very useful.”

(Very useful indeed.)


End file.
